


Probably a trainwreck, but the fun kind

by ShetheCat



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/F, F/M, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Multi, buff!Mari, fuck you happiness for everyone, he touched the ladybutt, if i have to die it'll be choking on fluff and bad jokes, starts out like just adrienxmari and then SIKE have all the smooches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-08
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-11-11 03:18:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11140038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShetheCat/pseuds/ShetheCat
Summary: The miracusquad let off some steam and Adrien wants to do karaoke and none of them have any goddamn boundaries and the miracuclass gets involved... shenanigans occur, it's silly and cracky and whatever, maybe you'll laugh :3





	1. Of shirts and chivalry

 

Adrien is suspiciously excited, the three of them agree. He is coming back from making his song choice, and Alya is _sure_ she saw him do a joyous butt wiggle that suggests Marinette has rubbed off on him in some way, at least.

 

He struts his skinny butt back to them, grinning _past_ his ears, and all but vibrating next to them. Three girls are on stage torching their way through _Iris_ with impressive gusto and a roaring chorus from the crowd, and no one appears to have had less than two drinks.

 

Alya is beaming and her and Nino are snuggled against one another. Marinette is cuddled into Alya's other side and it seems natural to reach out and catch Adrien in the group cuddle as he reaches them. She is pink-cheeked and he is warm and...bouncing? The blonde boy has rolled to the tips of his toes and is jigging in place as he curls his arm around Marinette's waist in turn, then catches Nino's waist too. He forces the quartet to bounce in glorious confusion and tipsy over-affection and he repeats “I'm up next, guys! Next! Me!” about four times until _Iris_ finishes and the _next singer_ is invited to the stage.

 

Amidst yelping and back-thumping and endorsements of his imminent performance, Adrien pulls himself up, straight and still, and salutes Nino solemnly. His smile curls across his face, widening as he shoots finger guns and turns to walk to the stage.

 

He jumps up nimbly, grabbing the offered microphone and paces the stage briefly before settling near the middle at the back.

 

The club is whispering-silent, giggles-and wide-eyes silent, masses-of-intrigued-drunk-people silent.

 

Marinette is almost frighteningly focused.

 

Adrien lifts his head, and _croons_. “I'm too sexy for my love-”

 

The club explodes into cheers and laughing as the music jumps up to meet him and Adrien stalks forward. His hips are moving, the hand sans microphone is sharp and dramatic and the _head-tossing_ is a thing of abject beauty.

 

On the second “too sexy for my shirt”, he whipped his off with a crack and tossed it with a wink and a wide, wide smile, to Marinette.

 

She caught it automatically, her face almost taken over by the enormity of her wide-eyed stare. Adrien turned a sharp circle on-stage, struck a pose, and red bloomed over her cheekbones, stroked up her forehead and slunk over her nose. Her ears slowly joined the rest of her face.

 

Alya was hooting joyously. “YEAH, golden boy, _shake that thang!”_

 

Somehow, he heard her over the noise and grinned, turning to look over his shoulder.

 

_Oh no,_ thought Marinette, _we should not have given him alcohol._

 

“I'm too sexy for your party-” he sang, whisper-rough, and sank to his haunches.

 

Marinette stopped breathing.

 

He rippled his way back up and she stopped functioning entirely, hands buried white-knuckled in his shirt as _shirtless Adrien Agreste_ stalked from the back of the stage singing about being a model. He stopped at the edge, met her eyes through the crowd, and as he sang “you know what I mean,” he _winked_ at her. Again.

 

_Oh,_ she thought distantly as Adrien rocked and angled and posed, and generally proved himself too sexy for his catwalk, _this is what an out of body experience feels like. Interesting._

 

Alya had climbed Nino, she noticed in her wavering periphery ( _I want to climb Adrien like a tree)_ and the two were a whole room of cheering audience. Alya whooped and Adrien somehow, inexplicably, got more exuberant with “I'm too sexy for my cat!” and he was grinning and _moving_ and wow, he had the most appealing back ( _I want to sink my teeth into his shoulder_ )-

 

-something clicked together in her head as he wrapped his tongue around the last verse, as his cat's tongue voice rumbled through the microphone, as he arched his back and she considered a little too intently the line of his hips. She knew this voice.

 

_Well, no shit._

 

No, she knew this _singing_ voice. She'd never heard Adrien sing before, she'd definitely remember that.

 

“I shake my li'l tush-” he shimmied, and over the error messages sounding in her ears, she heard a sing-song remembered “Give me your miraculous!”

 

She gave into a moment of hysterical laughter, but her flailing came across as excitement, as Alya grabbed her hands (still on Nino's shoulders) and the three of them danced with all the grace and vigour of a lame but excitable octopus for Adrien's big finale.

 

He froze in his final pose, one arm up, head back, chest banging- I mean, heaving- and everyone went a bit mad cheering for him- Alya was heard over top of everyone, damn that girl could project.

 

As he handed back the microphone and the next person headed up to take their turn, Marinette slipped away from her friends to the bar and ordered a Jammy Doughnut (because look, wanting liquid courage is all very well and good but it might as well taste nice too). She considered, then ordered a second, and watched Adrien appear from the crowd as they were made. Alya immediately threw herself forward and both boys did some yelping but Adrien caught her and Nino had tried to support her and it turned into a big, messy, loud hug.

 

She paid, gulped both shots, and put her Grown Up pants firmly on before striding determinedly towards her friends. She felt terribly dignified until she was grabbed and hauled into the pile, all tangled limbs and Alya-kisses-for-luck, and Nino was crying now, “cause I just love you guys, y'know. I love you , man, you just, shit, put everything into it, you just _went there_ and it was _beautiful._ ”

 

Marinette found herself cuddled under Adrien's arm and realised she was still clutching his shirt and therefore was cuddled against a (very warm, hot, very hot, _fit_ ) bare chest and then she was squashed against him as Nino lunged to grab his best bro and kiss his forehead and Adrien (a reliable sympathetic crier) was teary too and wrapped all three of them up ( _so very bare)_ and was saying “-you guys, you're just the _best friends ever_ and I'm _so glad I know you_ and _thank you_ -” and Alya burst into explosive tears next because “ _YOU GUYS ARE SO AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU!_ ” and Marinette _might_ have been involved and somehow everyone was crying and hugging and kissing cheeks, and Alya and Nino started making out but somehow in a friendly way? And Adrien put his shirt back on and somehow they were at the bar and getting two teapots to share and _they shared the teapots_ and things got a little blurry for awhile.

 

They left the club in a mushy huddle, singing “In the Jungle” until Adrien segued into “Everybody wants to be a Cat” and Marinette fell quiet and forgot to walk and there was some stumbling and confusion and then everyone was looking at her, _Adrien_ was looking at her and-

 

“Mari, Mari, you're so _tiny._ ” he said, with his green eyes luminescent. “Like, what happens if you went over a storm drain and fell in, Mari, don't!” He caught her and snuggled in, head in her neck, puffs of warm breath against her collarbone. “I don't want you to snap and you trip so easy and you're so _little_.”

 

“ _Oh my god_.” said the secret superhero to what she was _pretty_ (emphasis on pretty as Adrien lifted his head) sure was her partner in secret superheroing. It is unknown what might have occurred then, between crushes and frustration and a teensy bit too much to drink and best friends crowding in as if space was somehow life-threatening and needed to be avoided, if a grumbling snark of a voice saying hadn't interrupted.

 

“Chrissake get your little girl-fest out the road and go put on your make-up somewhere else.”

 

Four heads swivelled, two pairs of eyes became owl-like, two pairs narrowed into slits that gleamed eerily in the streetlight.

 

“Excuse me?!” thundered Alya, but the boys were expecting it and grabbed her, hauling her back from the trio of probably-gym-goers-oh-shit-look-at-their-shoulders.

 

Tiny, fae-shaped Marinette was missed by this treatment, and seemed to appear without moving in front of the nearest of the three men. Her head reached his pecs, mostly. She tilted her head so that she was somehow looking down her nose at them, opened her mouth to say something only _mostly_ a lecture on expectations, gender roles, and not being a shit when asking someone to move-

“What, sweetheart, were you checking your socks were still tucked in instead?”

 

There was two stifled rage-screams behind her, and the huff of breath that meant Nino was on the verge of setting his girlfriend loose.

 

Marinette threw her left arm straight up, fingers pointed, head back. “Lucky charm!” she shouted, and right-jabbed him in the jaw.

 

 


	2. In which arms are wrestled and jimmies are rustled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, Marinette had more witnesses than she knew, and those witnesses are really interested in her arms. Like in a tournament way. Mostly.

 

Everything sort of went to shit for a minute there. The dude she decked went down like a felled tree, and his stunned friends were scrambling to help him and to get the hell away from her, and Alya was looming at her shoulder like a particularly pissed off wildcat, hair volume increased somehow like raised hackles, and Nino had grabbed Adrien's belt but was now holding his friend who was babbling, hands expressing madly, that, “Shit, Nino, _that was so ho-cool. Really cool._ Like, wow. _Why am I so turned on?”_

 

There was a tiny voice in her ear that sounded like Tikki, _if Tikki swore_ , going, “What the fuck, Marinette.”

 

“What the flipping fuck, Mari? How-?” Groggy man had been pulled up by his friends, all three stumbling down the street away from the short girl with the scary strong arm.

Their pitching voices flew up into the Parisian night, but none of the quartet were listening because Marinette was scuffing her toe awkwardly and offering a timid, “He didn't need to be so mean, he could've just asked us to move.” She hadn't even hit him that hard, seriously. _Though she supposed she generally reserved her punches for magically-enhanced supervillains_.

 

Alya burst out laughing and collapsed into Nino, clutching her belly and _howling_. Nino buried his face in her hair and his shoulders started shaking in turn. Adrien, on the other hand, lost whatever self-control he'd maintained so far (by which I mean Nino physically retraining him), and pounced on Marinette, catching her up and spinning her around, toes a good couple feet off the ground.

 

“HOLY _SHIT_ , MARINETTE!” Alix leaped into the group, dragging Kim, who is dragging Max like some crazed daisy-chain of noisy classmates. Marinette puts her face in her hands. Adrien twirls once more and lowers her slightly. Her legs wind around his waist. Neither immediately notices this. “ _That was so badass! Flex for me, will ya?_ ”

 

“That was logistically unexpected-” Max starts, but Marinette curls her biceps, muscles ripple, and he is drowned out by a communal _ooh_.

 

Marinette laughed and angled her head sideways, legs tightening in a friendly snuggle. Adrien realises and his face goes red from the bottom up (you can almost see the convection currents). “You guys have seen my calves, y'know. I do work in a bakery.” _And fly around the city via yo-yo but flour is heavy too._

 

“Arm wrestle, Mari!” says Kim, and they eye each other for a moment.

 

“We need a table.” she says.

 

“I'm taking on winner!” shouts Alix, and somehow they're heading into another club, and Adrien is still carrying Marinette (although she could hold herself there no problem, he's sure) and Plagg is wiggling in his inside pocket.

 

The pass the bouncer with no problems, and Marinette lays her head on his shoulder for a moment (she is holding hands with Alya beside him, and Alix is holding Alya's other hand) and nuzzles into his neck. Adrien wiggles slightly in terror and delight and guilt and the small girl's nose brushes his ear as she murmurs something that sounds _a lot_ like, “-found you, Chat-”

 

His heart crashes into his ribs with enough speed and force to _hurt_ and she straightens and he has to look up to see her face, she's risen over him and those vivid eyes are direct and her lips are quirked just so and ( _“-lucky charm!-”_ ), “Holy shit,” he breathes.

 

She winks at him and slithers away from his suddenly limp-noodle arms as he tried to process and spots a little red face peeking out of her handbag- a tiny red face that rolls giant blue eyes at him and disappears, and is followed by a pitying _pat pat_ from his chest pocket.

 

This club has the bass thumping with some electro-mix and a smoke machine curling mist over the dance floor, flashing blue in the black light. The classmates are herded by Alix and Kim to the outdoor smoking area where there are tables and some measure of hearing-capabilities. Alya and Nino disappear for a minute and come back to Kim fiercely battling a stoic Marinette. She is hiding as much of her amusement as she can but when Kim adds his second hand and she tenses a little to hold him off she starts laughing and knocks his hands to the tabletop, leaning over to boop noses with him.

 

He makes a disgusted noise and Alix whoops and muscles him down the bench, ruffling her vibrant hair with one hand with suave confidence as she grips Mari's with the other. Max calls start, and Alix _heaves_ and moves precisely nowhere.

 

“I can use my left hand,” Mari offers, and nudges a little, pushing Alix's arm down. Alix glares, Kim laughs, Alya drapes herself over Marinette's shoulder and a waitress appears with more teapots.

 

(“What?”, says Alya, “They're tasty and easy to share.”)

 

“How much force can Marinette exert?”

 

“I am _not_ going down this easy!”

 

“ _Shots, shots, shots!_ ”

 

“ALYA!”

 

“SHOTS, I DARE YOU!”

 

“I BET I CAN DO MORE THAN YOU IN A MINUTE”

 

“Guys, we don't want to kill ourselves.”

 

“It's mostly ice, and mixers.”

 

“Please, that's half the problem, you'd choke.”

 

“Don't worry, _I_ never _choke_.”

 

“ALYA.”

“NINO.”

 

“ADRIEN!”

 

“Adrien, that joke is dead. Dead. Don't...stop making donkey ears above your head.”

 

“DAMMIT MARINETTE.”

 

“What? It's not my fault I'm ripped as fuck.” She flexes. Noises of awe and disbelief are heard. Someone drops to the floor. Stares from the other tables abound.

 

“Right.” says Adrien, dropping into the seat across from Mari. “Bring it, my little toothpick.”

 

“Excuse me?” Marinette lifts her eyebrows at her blonde partner, who gives her a smile she feels in her belly. Her toes curl involuntarily in her shoes. “You're the toothpi-”

 

He shrugs out of his shirt deliberately and there's a chorus of indrawn breaths and then snorting at the joy/fury/horror/lust that contorts their classmate's very pink face.

 

The waitress stops by their table and stares pointedly at the shirtless boy, who goes pink himself and sheepishly covers himself again, to Kim's whispered, “No, wait, fuck the establishment.”

 

Marinette downs a shot, circles her shoulders, her neck. She levels a very direct, challenging look at Adrien. There are numerous nervous gulps and eyes taking note of her _incredibly-_ how?- _toned_ self. Alya redrapes herself when Marinette casually stretches her arms in preparation, and takes the chance to enthusiastically press kisses all over Marinette's arm, stroking reverently. “Look at my buff goddess bff!” she says, “I should make a montage and post it on the Ladyblog, like who wouldn't want to see this?”

 

There's a choking sound from Adrien and Marinette leans her elbow on the table and grins at him. “Ready, my ki-ca- _kinda hot friend-_ FUCK.”

 

“Oh, _I'm_ ready, twiglet.”

 

They clasp hands and immediately both arms tense. Muscles stand out in relief. Alya has started filming and she is definitely zooming in too much. Minutes pass. Faces are taut with concentration. Their joined hands waver in one direction, then the other. Nino and Alya nod to each other. Alix and Kim cotton on and slide into position.

 

Four pairs of hands hover, then attack. Adrien _shrieks_ and squirms and fights desperately to hold still and rebuff Marinette, who is doing a lively dance in her seat and swearing desperately. Both frantic combatants push wildly at each other's hand, until Marinette catches Adrien's eyes and takes the chance to deliberately bite her lip (between swearing, this is very timed and fleeting and _I hate you both so much right now_ ), flick her eyes up-down, and wink. This is too much for poor Adrien, who is being assaulted on three (four?) fronts now, his mouth drops open and she slams his hand to the tabletop with what would have been a whoop but is more of a snarl as she follows his hand to the table, launching herself away from her evil, terrible, _ex-friends'_ hands.

 

Alya and Nino follow her so the three of them end up in a laughing, flailing pile on the table, narrowly missing the drinks and Adrien is still yelping at Kim and Alix to _“Stop, dammit, I lost! Mercy!”_ and his hand is trapped under Marinette to his horror and she shifts and wriggles, sits up and squeaks as his hand twitches...beneath....her.

 

He is suddenly gifted with the fleeting knowledge of what her firm butt feels like through denim short-shorts, and is mortified (hard), yanking his hand to freedom and making apologetic motions and faces because his tongue is too thick to work the word-making.

 

Max plunks down on the table next to Marinette and the girl automatically pulls him in for a hug. He adjusts his glasses and studies his nails before saying, “Clubs are usually where one goes to dance, are they not?”

 

Alya suddenly has a smile that can only be called fiendish. She cuddles into the tabletop pair and Marinette combs her fingers through her best friend's glorious mane as said best friend leans into Max. “Wanna dance, cutie?”

 

Max goes a touch pink, eyes dart to Alix and Kim, and is promptly whisked off the table by Alya, swung into a bridal-carry by Kim, and the whole group like a force of nature makes their way to the dim interior and the crowded dance floor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHAHAHA DONT JUDGE ME PLEASE my writing style is 90% comma abuse :3 x

**Author's Note:**

> *ahem* this is just for fun and I'm writing it, yknow, for the lols, so please dont hate my terrible tenses too much, because you cant hate them as much as I hate realising just how much i've swapped back and forth and I couldnt decide which i liked best bc there's such movement in the one and idk intentionality in the other so *shrugs* im aware they're bad and i should feel bad so please have mercy and dont twig me too much on them (i know, trust me i knooowwwwwww im being useless sorrry)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the nonsense, i will probs get the next bit up in a few days ^^


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